


Anniversary

by ohmyvalar



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyvalar/pseuds/ohmyvalar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the anniversary of Pelham's death. Dorian helps John cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read, so mistakes are mine and mine alone!

John's distrust of androids had begun ever since the first time he had set his eyes on the standard-issue MX models, but Pelham had been the last straw, and his dislike had deepened into something much more dangerous. 

So John didn't know what he was doing here, leaning back against the alley wall, with Dorian crowding into his personal space, a hand cupping the side of his cheek. It wasn't fair because Dorian wasn't like the MX which had caused Pelham to die, wasn't built the same way, a more sober part of John's mind said, but that part of him was too far gone along with the rest of his alcohol-addled mind for him to care at the moment. 

Still, Dorian's touch was strangely comforting and grounding, and John couldn't bring himself to pull away from it, because he knew Dorian well enough to accept the idea that there was genuine concern in Dorian's action, and not completely just some faux pre-programmed response. There were no signs of the tell-tale electric blue lights that signaled activation of Dorian's robotic functions, and John was grateful for that. Even though he knew that Dorian had probably already scanned his vitals and determined just how drunk he was.

"Should have figured that you'd find me here, huh." John huffed, trying not to lean into Dorian's light touch. Dorian looked exasperated. "John, you're off duty now, and I understand that getting inebriated is a common form of stress relief for humans, but we need to continue on the case tomorrow and unless we are taking a day off-" 

The case was a new one, but the body had been discovered late and the room had been expertly cleansed of evidence, so after conducting a customary search of the crime scene, they had left the forensics department to figure out the technical details. 

When John refocused his attention on Dorian, he was frowning at him. "Hey, man, you weren't listening to me." Dorian said, with an earnest look of displeasure on his face. "Sorry. Look, send a message to Captain Maldonado for me, will you? Tell her that I won't be going in tomorrow." John said, shifting away so that Dorian's hand was no longer resting on his cheek. 

That got Dorian's attention. Even though it wasn't Dorian's first time finding John in some dive, it was the first time John had requested for taking leave off work. John watched as Dorian hesitated before taking a step towards him. Hesitation. Such a human emotion, but John believed it. John would be lying if he said that he now understood and accepted every human capabilities that Dorian was built with; he was no Rudy. But John believed that Dorian could care, had seen how devastated he had been when the sexbot had to be terminated. 

"What's wrong, man?" Dorian asked, stepping right up to John, closer than he had been just moments before, and maybe John should be bothered by the invasion into his personal space bubble, but maybe it was the alcohol in his blood, or the fact that today was different, but John didn't want Dorian to move away. 

He peered into his partner's eyes, saw plain concern in those mimicries of real human eyes, and closed his own. If Dorian were any more human, he would have tensed at the realization that John was about to share something important with him, but he wasn't programmed to do that. Still, it was enough, John decided, nodding his head almost childishly, the alcohol already beginning to act as a fog in his thought processes. He could trust Dorian. Huh. Thought processes. It sounded like something Dorian would say, and not for the first time, John wondered that he now spent most of his waking time with one of those very beings whom he detested. 

Looking again at Dorian, he saw his partner trying to figure out what he was thinking about while scanning his vitals, frowning, and corrected his unfair thoughts. No. Dorian was different. He wasn't like the regular MX models. He was the same as John himself, only almost human. But that wasn't the most important thing. 

The thing that mattered most about Dorian, that caused John to value him, other than the way they made a good team, was that Dorian was probably one of the only people left in the world around him that still cared for him. John had ascertained that a while back. 

When he looked back at Dorian, he was just waiting. Quiet, and his gaze was steady. John took a long breath and let it spill out. "Today's my old partner's death anniversary." John said heavily, sagging against the solid wall behind him. And the day I went into a coma and woke up with an artificial limb. The words went unsaid, but Dorian seemed to understand. "John..." Dorian began, and John flashbacked to a conversation with his psychiatrist who had given him a litany of ways to cope with his diagnosed conditions, and suddenly felt inexplicably and unfairly angry. "Stop. I don't want to hear all the standard health advisories," John spat out, before he could remember where he was and who he was talking to. 

Dorian looked struck, and even upset, the dim lighting accentuating his features. John's breathing caught, and for a moment he didn't know what to do, not even how to apologize, and they just stood there, the dimly lit alley seemingly frozen in time, the two men the only variables in it. For a moment John could almost believe in that theory regarding multiple universes, that everything different choice and action he made thereafter would have a specific impact on his life. 

Then Dorian's expression started to harden, and before the more logical part of John's brain could catch up, John was propelling himself forward, hands on Dorian's shoulders, and kissing him. 

Dorian tasted strange. Not unpleasant, but strange, probably because he had none of the typical tastes a human mouth would have, whether it was food or some other product. There was no mechanical or plastic taste or feel to his mouth, however, even though John doubted that it was because DRNs had been programmed to be good kissers. Most likely for CPR, John thought absentmindedly. 

And then Dorian was kissing him back, and John's thoughts fled to somewhere else, because damn, maybe DRNs were programmed to be good kissers after all. Where John had been rushed and instinctive and rough, Dorian was kissing him like he was trying to provide comfort, gentle and caring and even loving, even though John was the one trying to apologize. 

Abruptly, Dorian pulled away, and maybe John was touch-starved, but he had to choke back a moan rising in the back of his throat. "Do you consent?" Dorian asked, and his voice didn't sound weak at all, damn him, John thought absentmindedly, distracted by Dorian's debauched lips. It took a while for his addled brain to register that Dorian had been asking a question, and he nodded. 

"John." Dorian asked again, holding John's shoulders, his tone serious. "Do you consent?" John moved his gaze to Dorian's eyes, and saw the serious look in them. Sobering a little, John said, "Yeah. I do." He felt Dorian look into his eyes searchingly, and did his best to transmit sincerity in them. 

Whatever Dorian saw, it must have been enough to reassure him, because the next second he was kissing John's lips, and then his jugular, tracing the length of John's neck with a trail of tender kisses and nips. With every loving touch, John felt something other than pleasure welling up in his chest, something that felt terrifyingly close to vulnerability. 

For a while John just stood there, letting the wall support most of his weight, hands wrapped loosely around Dorian's perfect and solid frame, feeling emotionally overwhelmed. It had been longer than he'd admit since he'd had physical intimacy with anyone since... Well, since Anna. There were some casual takers, but none had ever bothered to, or attracted John enough for him to, lavish loving gestures. 

God, he didn't deserve this anyway. Two years ago, Pelham had died right in front of him, because he had been helpless and because of that dammed MX. And here John was, making out with an android on his death anniversary. Again, John knew that he wasn't being fair to Dorian, and he let out a frustrated groan, even as Dorian dropped feather-light kisses on the nape of his neck. 

"John, it's not your fault." Dorian suddenly spoke up, lifting his head to look John right in the eye, his voice steady. John turned his head away, not wanting to meet Dorian's gaze. "I don't deserve this. Pelham didn't deserve that." John said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "John. John!" Dorian repeated, louder, when John refused to look at him. John lowered his gaze, looking at anywhere but Dorian's face. 

A hand enveloped John's fist. John started at the contact. He hadn't even realized that he had been clenching his hands. Somehow the simple contact made John ache, and he looked up slowly. He didn't know what he was expecting. What did he want? Comfort? Even at the risk that it could screw up their entire partnership? Dorian seemed willing and genuine, but how could John know for sure that this wasn't some fucked up procedure that DRNs were programmed with? 

But all Dorian did was hold John's hand in a firm grip, not enough to feel controlling, but solid and there. "John, I read the case file, and you did all that you could to save him. It wasn't your fault that he didn't make it out and you did." Dorian said seriously, his voice simple like he was absolutely sure of what he was saying, that the statement was a universal fact. The words had been repeated in variations by John's psychiatrists and even once by Captain Maldonado, and John shouldn't be touched or even affected by them, but when he looked into Dorian's eyes and saw the conviction there, John had to believe him. 

God, John trusted him, whether or not Dorian was really doing all of this of his own bleeding heart or some pre-programmed code. It didn't matter. Dorian was Dorian, and this was what John liked about him, was attached to him because of. 

He hadn't had anyone like that around him since Pelham. "He had a family, Dorian. A wife and kids..." John whispered, his shoulders shaking of their own accord. He didn't care anymore; wanted to be able to let loose for once in front of somebody instead of grieving alone in his too-empty house. 

For a while, Dorian just held John like that, hands held together, a comforting and solid touch as John shuddered, telling him everything. And Dorian just looked at him, accepting everything he said, dropping encouraging remarks at appropriate timings. As John spoke, he could see the image of Pelham again, could see him taking shape in Dorian's mind. And that would have to be enough, letting the memory of Pelham continue in the minds of others, to not let him be forgotten. 

When John finally collected himself, he gave Dorian a wry grin. "Sorry about that." He said, his voice lower than usual. The side of Dorian's lips curled in a small smile. "What are partners for, man?" He asked, and maybe John was disoriented, but he thought he saw a slight hint of uncertainty in the way Dorian didn't meet his direct gaze. 

"Hey." John wrapped his free hand around their entwined ones. "We're friends, Dorian. And thank you. Seriously." He kept his gaze on Dorian, hoping that his insistence conveyed reassurance and confirmation instead of making him uncomfortable. 

Something flickered in Dorian's eyes as the DRN raised his eyes, and John's heart jumped. Maybe he'd mistaken Dorian's reason for his hesitation. "Look, Dorian... I- ah," It was John's turn to look away, flustered. God, he felt like a jerk. "Uh, what I meant was," John glanced at Dorian, hands gesticulating slightly erratically. When he caught sight of Dorian's amused smirk, John sighed. "Look, Dorian. I'm... I'm sorry if I triggered something with that kiss." Then, seeing Dorian's expression change, John hurriedly added, "It's not that you're not appealing or anything it just-- I know that it wasn't appropriate, and I'm sorry!" He finished, flustered. God, what was wrong with him? Just minutes ago he'd broken down in front of Dorian, and now... He could feel the tips of his ears burning up. 

Dorian's expression had changed to one of disbelief. "Wait," He said, holding up a hand, as if his stupid android mind needed any time to process his statement. "You think that I'm attractive?" 

John opened his mouth to deny the statement, but nothing came up in his defense. Screw it, he'd blame it on the alcohol that was taking its toll on his mind. "Look, that isn't the point here, all right? The point is that I'm sorry, and why aren't you upset that I made you kiss me back and do all those- oh." 

"You're an idiot, you know that, John?" Dorian said between kisses and touches that had John gasping against the wall, letting Dorian use his superhuman strength to keep him pressed there, still recovering from the sudden turn in events. "DRNs aren't programmed with any procedures to follow through with in the event of this kind of physical assault. Especially if they're welcome." 

John huffed, a little upset at how normal Dorian's voice still sounded. "It's not fair how you can still keep your breath like that, you damned DRN." John complained. Dorian smiled, a large, genuinely delighted smile which touched the edge of mischievousness and smugness, and if John were a sentimentalist, he would have admitted that his heart swelled at the sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
